


Good Morning

by uriokuki



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Crime, Gen, Mystery, Psychological
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-11 11:18:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2066163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uriokuki/pseuds/uriokuki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, Hanamiya Makoto does tell the truth. Quite often in fact. But he will only let people believe what he wants them to believe, and it is up to them whether they want to believe or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Middle school days  
> Characters: Hanamiya Makoto (1st yr), Imayoshi Shouichi (3rd yr?), Tachibana-sensei (OMC, post-grad?)  
> Pairings: Hints of ImaHana & TachiHana
> 
> Hanamiya Uso - Flowery Lies  
> Tachibana-sensei has green eyes and brown hair that suspiciously resemble a character from a swimming anime.

****

The students are assembled at the front of the school as they await the buses for their field trip. It is very early and the sun is not quite up yet, but it is bright enough to give the foggy morning a fairy tale haze. The biting chill leaves a lot of the children huddling together for warmth or burrowing deeper into their coats.

Imayoshi is not one of them. He stands away from the rest of the crowding and leans against the concrete wall of the school building. He watches in silence as the only interesting person in the school he knows arrives in an expensive looking white car. Hanamiya Makoto steps out with a lazy grace and though his eyes are sleepy he’s looking entirely too pleased with himself this early in the morning. He notes that his hair hangs over his face messier than usual, as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it after a towel-dry, but he surprisingly makes it look good. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his thick black fur-lined coat (also expensive looking) and assesses the crowd before locking eyes with Imayoshi.

Hanamiya smiles like he has a secret as makes his way through with a subtle arrogance to his step, like a predator. Though he doesn’t look away, he knows that his presence has caused many heads to turn and the pleased curl to his lips made him look even more attractive.

Hanamiya finally stands in front of him, and as if to embrace him, steps even closer until they are nearly touching. He takes out a hand and cups it to his mouth and Imayoshi wordlessly leans in to hear what he has to say.

What is it that Hanamiya thinks must be said in the lowest hushes when they are already so far from the others that overhearing them will already be impossible? Imayoshi has the suspicious feeling that it will not be good.

When Hanamiya stops whispering, he doesn’t bother to move to a respectful distance. They have probably attracted some attention by now and he knows it. Hanamiya loves it. Hanamiya looks at his sempai with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a silent ‘so?’ is asked.

Imayoshi is still looking at him in shocked silence. His mind still processing the words and trying to define each meaning. He is also thinking how ironic it is that despite the morning elegance, the white sky, and the white snow that gently falls like petals, Hanamiya is a stark contrast to everything that is pure. From the dark clothes that wrap him like a cloak, the great dark fur of his hood and his inky black hair that frames his face like a cowl. It makes him look angelic, but he is a dark angel.

Hanamiya found a dead body this morning. Well, not dead enough when he checked. He was on his usual morning gander when he saw something sticking out of the ground. It was a woman’s body that lay almost naked but for a measly outfit, in the forest behind their property.

Her face was heavy with makeup and when he checked lower, there were bruises on the inside of her elbows. He did not recognize her at all, but one thing he was sure about, he didn’t want it on his ‘lawn’. He knew he should report it, after all, he is only a child and though he would be a suspect, no one would accuse him of the actual murder.

He stared at it for a while, then he pressed his hand against the jugular (he notes that there are strangulation marks.) There, a faint heartbeat. He slaps the face in a weak attempt to wake her up. An almost inaudible groan.  
Hanamiya is now at a loss on what to do though his face is devoid of emotion and is more calculating. The person is alive that much is obvious (but not for very long if he leaves her here.)

He tilts his head back and thinks of who might be able to do something. Not his parents or siblings. No friends to count on either. He doesn’t even know the numbers of the local emergency units. He wouldn’t bother with the servants or his neighbors (it was he who found the body, not them, he thinks with childish possessiveness). That leaves the only semi-reliable contact who knows how to keep a secret, Tachibana-sensei, his home tutor and sometimes his ‘friend’.

Makoto takes out his mobile and speed dials his number. He waits for it to pick up; after five rings it does and with an undoubtedly tired groan from the other line.

"Hello?" It comes out muffled as if he’s talking into his pillow.

"Tachibana-sensei," he speaks into the receiver with a wavering voice. His youthful pitch has yet to break itself and so he sounds extremely weak.

"Makoto-kun?" A surprised tilt to his voice, Makoto smiles. Step one, complete.

"What’s wrong? It’s—" a pause, "two in the morning! Are you okay, did something happen," his voice is picking up coherency and he can hear his bed sheets rustling like he was getting to sit up.

"Un, sensei, but.. I.. I.. I killed someone!" He breaks into a pitiful sob. He couldn’t stop shaking from laughter and the manic smile that split his face. How novel! How exhilarating! He could feel his heart racing in utter excitement.

Good thing Tachibana-sensei couldn’t see him or else the game would really be up.

"What?! How? I mean, No," Tachibana says with a shout that quickly turns down into a panicked whisper.

“Sensei,” still sobbing, “I don’t know what to do I didn’t mean to I’m sorry I just,” he’s laying it on thick now.

"Shhh shhh, it’s okay Makoto, it’s going to be okay. It was all an accident right?" Tachibana doesn’t sound so assured on the last part, but he tries his best to calm his distraught student.

"Tell me exactly what happened, where are you, also does anybody else know?"

Makoto is quick to think of a story, “I, I invited her over last night because she looked cold and hungry and also a bit sick. She was just standing outside and I couldn’t just leave her alone out there. She really looked like she needed help,” by the look of her clothes, probably a prostitute. Not a very smart one either.

"I had to sneak her in though because if the servants found out they would tell my parents and I didn’t want to get in trouble again." Not that he would since he really didn’t do anything. He could hear shuffling from the other line, he could assume the man was getting up and ready. Good.

"So I gave her some food and let her stay in the guest bedroom and then I showed her my room too so she could call me if she needed anything. I went to bed after that and-and.." he made a keening noise.

"Makoto, Makoto, shh it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay. Be strong, I need you to tell me what happened next."

"I woke up and— she was," Makoto was grinding his teeth, oh the drama. "She was touching me, sensei!" he cried in fake trauma. "She told me to be quiet or else, or else," he didn’t know what to say for this. He didn’t think she’d kill him, not that he knew her, and the consequences of his family finding out wouldn’t be too damning, he supposed, so he wasn’t scared of that. But he pretended to be and let Tachibana-sensei assume so.

"I couldn’t do anything sensei," he continued, "but then she started touching my, my, hngh, I’m so disgusted sensei! I didn’t mean to but I just, when she was going to make me, do it," he whispered the last part, "I just reacted and I, I hit her sensei. I hit her over and over again. And then when she was going to scream, I strangled her until she stopped moving." His voice was monotone now as if he was recalling a trauma. Ha, maybe he should take up career acting. He would so get an Oscar.

"Sensei, please help me, I don’t want to rot in jail, I don’t want to go, I’m so scared sensei I don’t want my family to find out I’m a murderer. Sensei, please, everyone’s going to leave me and then I’m going to die alone and then—"

"Makoto, Makoto, I won’t leave you, I won't let you go to jail, I promise.You’re not a murderer. I’ll help you okay Makoto, it’s going to be alright. Tell me where you are."

"Uh, I’m in the forest buh-behind our house. It’s a bit far. I carried... Tachibana-sensei, what am I gonna do?"

"I’m already on my way there I’ll be just about ten minutes, wait for me okay?"

"Yes, I’ll wait for sensei, thank you so much, thank you. I’ll be waiting by the gate to let you in," he hangs up and starts walking. It may have been winter, but he felt like it was as warm as spring.

Tachibana-sensei arrives five minutes later than he said he would, but that’s okay, he's here now, panting with his hands and knees trembling from cold and adrenaline.

He made sure to irritate his eyes earlier to make it look like he was crying and pinched his nose until it was redder than usual.  
Makoto has his game face on— young, scared, and painfully vulnerable.

“Sensei,” he looks at Tachibana-sensei with wounded doe eyes. His perpetually sad eyebrows are useful in these cases.

He hugs sensei as if his life depends on it, hands digging into the man’s coat as he buries his face in his chest, trying to shed what few tears he could muster. His shoulders shake with glee.

Tachibana for his part is too gullible and falls for it immediately. He wraps his arms around his student, rubbing circles into his back while whispering comfort words.

When the shaking begins to die down, he gently pushes the boy away to see his face is red and runny with tears. He wipes those away with his gloves and Makoto leans into his hand.

His heart aches at the sight. So young, but his innocence is already tainted. (He doesn’t know that assumption is correct but very wrong in context.)

"Makoto-kun, take me to the.. body," he says with hesitation. For the most part, Makoto just bows and nods his head with a pitiful voice.

"Yes, sensei, this way," his arm is taken and Makoto leads him to the forest. When they get there, the scantily clad body is still in the same state as he found it in.

Tachibana’s breath hitched at the sight. His fears were confirmed. Makoto naïvely brought in a whore and she tried to rape him.

He moves closer to check her, just like Makoto did at the start. He sees strangulation marks on her neck, faint bruising on her face despite the heavy makeup, he sees her arms and his eyes narrow, a junkie too. He is disgusted by this tainted creature, how dare they try to take Makoto’s innocence!

"Makoto, I need a shovel," he says while still glaring at the body. The body that is small (his student is smaller) and thin but has muscles that he thinks were enough to overpower his frightened student.

“There’s a storage shed nearby, it’s in there. I’ll get it,” he says with a small voice and disappears with crunching steps.

Tachibana waits and when Makoto comes back while struggling to carry two shovels, he is surprised and concerned. He didn’t want the boy to do any work, to bury the body that died at his hands. It was probably already too much for him, but he couldn’t leave him alone either. Tachibana’s respect for the boy increases. He is a strong boy.

They dig a pit and bury the body farther into the woods. It takes them close to an hour before the task is done. They are both dirty with wet and mud. Tachibana stomps the ground flat before shoveling more snow on top.  
He looks back at the exhausted boy who looks like he just aged ten years older. He is crouching with his head tucked into his arms which settle atop his knees.

Tachibana checks his watch and sees it is already 3:30 am. Half an hour before the servants wake up.

He steps over to gently shake the boy, “Makoto-kun, we need to get back.”

Makoto slowly lifts his head and though he doesn’t look as distraught as before, he is utterly exhausted. He is never burying bodies again. He’ll find other methods of disposal.

"Sensei.." I’m so tired? I can’t go on? I’m too lazy to walk please carry me.

He gets up slowly and leans into the man who catches him. For a while, they stay like that. Tachibana-sensei hugging him while he’s nodding off, not in the least bit bothered they just buried a half-dead-to-be-dead-person alive.

At least they got it off his lawn.

Imayoshi looks at Hanamiya’s coy smile. His eyes are closed again and the gradual curling of his own lips make Hanamiya’s grow wider.

“You should have been named Hanamiya Uso instead. I almost believed you,” he huffs out a laugh. Hanamiya’s face brightens at the ‘compliment’ and laughs along with him. It is a pleasant sound, but his refined laughter is only as genuine as the rest of his nature.

"Good morning to you too," Imayoshi mumbles. All that instead of a simple ‘Hello?’ Hanamiya really knows how to spin a tale, and how to make a simple greeting turn into a suspenseful novel. At least they passed the time. The teachers had started morning call and were rounding up the students. Imayoshi looks back at his kohai who is no longer looking at him but the assembling line.  
They will have to separate into their respective years but for now, they are still only inches apart from each other. Hanamiya glances at him with a parting smile before turning to crowd with the rest of the student body. Imayoshi is immediately hit with a chill at the loss of warmth.

That is so like Hanamiya. Pulling you into his gravity that radiates with noise, not unlike a black hole, but when you are finally inside his circle, he leaves you dry and wanting but you do not know if you want more. So for now, while you are inside, you will let yourself enjoy his dark humor and mercurial nature.

What Imayoshi doesn’t know is that, contrary to his belief, Hanamiya does tell the truth. A lot too. Isn’t it his name after all? But no one will believe him if he doesn’t want them to. No one will know the truth but him. He smirks and thanks the gods. Hell, with his face, he can even get away with murder.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise I am not good with summaries.
> 
> This is actually based off my dreams.
> 
> Originally posted on Tumblr: [here](http://mamamiyabadboys.tumblr.com/post/92044762143/good-morning#notes)


End file.
